


The Dream Walker

by downpourcity



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downpourcity/pseuds/downpourcity
Summary: When Hecate Hardbroom was born she was given the gift of extremely forbidden magic. The ability to take dreams, devour nightmares and use those dreams to manifest guardians to fight alongside her. As she grew older people required her services. She became known as the "Dream Walker" to some and the boogeyman to others. Before she devours the Great Wizard's worst nightmare she asks for an opportunity in return, to become an instructor so she may retire from her hazardous occupation.Will Hecate do well at Cackle's Academy? Or will her past only condemn her future.
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	1. A Misunderstood Shadow

A darkened figure stood by candlelight with her hands raised and her voice subtle but steady. Sweat beaded gently down her forehead, with great precision she lifted her hands and moved them down over the sleeping body below. The figure stepped backwards as dark purple and red hues shifted through the air in the form of thick and bleak smoke. The smoke lingered in the air as if one had smoked a cigar and then it fluttered downward like a horde of butterflies into a small glass container. The room grew silent as the figure’s form vanished into the shadows as if they were a shadow themselves.

Rain pelted the windows of the small cottage as the figure from before emerged from the bleak corners. Her hands and wrists were stained ink black as she held up the small red and purple vial that glowed in the dark. The smallest of screams emanated from the insides and churned similarly to a hurricane. The vile was set on a case full of other glowing glass containers. Each was marked with a name and a date. The woman opened a dark bronze colored book and flipped to a page close to the middle. She flicked the bookmark away and grabbed out her ink and dip pen. With a steady hand motion, the pen lifted, placed itself in the dark purple ink and began to write the name, ‘Egbert Helibore’ on the line below the last name. Next to the name it wrote ‘Nightmare based on Past, Highly Dangerous.’ She bit into the small of her lip and continued onto the next section which read, ‘Requested to be stored and then vanished, **do not use**.’ The pen rose once more as the date was scrawled out with haste.

Her heart beat elevated, her hand fell to the tabletop and her eyes saw double. The pen dropped onto the table next to the book which flipped blue ink and spattered it onto the nearby wall. Hecate let in ravenous breaths as her eyes anxiously flicked to the shelf. The nightmare of the Great Wizard began to twitch and twist on the shelf as her brain recalled the nightmare, she had recently drained. Her brown hues and scelera drained to black until she collapsed onto the floor.

_Dark figures trained shadows onto the electric blue glowing woods. He ran and ran and ran and yet could not find the exit. The low growl of the monster in pursuit of him would not cease until he was devoured and denied of life. His breath was stuck in his throat and his lungs ceased to go any longer. The feeling was akin to drowning under the pressure of the ocean and seeing all of one’s loved ones as they attempted to free you from the clutches of the water. Yet nothing would save this young man, this boy, this child. He screamed and screamed and screamed but magic would not come as the monster cornered him into an embankment. He put his hands up to his face in hope of slowing down the gigantic gleaming maw, but he was much too late as blood began to well under intense teeth. Rust was all that could be smelled, and red crimson blood was the only friendly face._

Hecate let out hastened breaths as she forcibly lifted herself from the wooden floor from a pool of sweat. The vial was one centimetre from plummeting onto the floor and being freed. A guttural yell escaped her as the vile stopped moving and slid backwards into its place like a scared dog. Nightmares were like vicious wolves as they would try to free themselves from whatever imprisonment they had found themselves in. While good dreams would rest in jars like lazy summer evenings and anxiety dreams would creep into the corners of the jar and bloom into frightened hues of blue.

The tall witch grabbed her pocket watch and opened it to reveal that she had let the nightmare take her over for an hour. She let out a disappointed groan and stumbled into a chair nearest the window. Long raven hairs gathered over her cheek and face, scooping it like a lover tending to the one they always came home to. The chair let out a creak as she settled back into and was out like a light. The next morning when she awoke the nightmare had moved itself to sit next to her on the side-table. She grabbed the vial and glared at it with all her might and felt the telltale signs of it creeping back into her mind again. The veins in her arms began to turn as dark as her hands as she clinched her teeth. She felt her vision going again as realistic images replaced her reality of a monster viciously tearing her apart.

_Become unmade, become undone, your will is gone, obliterate._

She let out gasps again, this time it had lapsed five minutes but the vial was but ashes on the tabletop. Dark grey liquid dripped down her chin from her lips and down to her lap. Hecate sputtered out a cough in defiance. In place of the vial a letter appeared in a burst of flames, upon it was a red wax seal with a crest that read ‘strive’ below it. With shaking hands, she snatched the envelope and opened it with her nail. The parchment was warn but the ink was fresh. In bold ebony characters it read,

“Dear Miss Joy Hecate Hardbroom,

Due to the act you have performed in service to the Great Wizard, I ask that you join me for tea. Please make haste as I wish to have you at the next most time you are available. By the time you read these words I will begin arranging this encounter.

I will be seeing you soon,

Ada Cackle

Headmistress “

It was unsettling to be summoned so quickly but as the collector of dreams it was not a strange request. To be requested by the headmistress of the school she attended so very long ago was another thing, however. She was both hated and revered and was sometimes even referred to as the thing that would get you in the night if you were not careful. Children feared her, mothers and fathers begged for her to stay away, even Ordinaries knew her name and felt the cold emanating deep within. She was ice, darkness, and the void. Her purpose was to help not to harm but no many would believe a word from her mouth.

Over the years the nightmares had warped her in their image. It could not be helped when one worked with them nearly all the time. Her hands had grown as dark as ink, her eyes would turn as black as night if she were to be in the company of something wicked, and her teeth had become razer sharp by the will of many warped fantasies in others brains. It was a small price to pay but in return she gained trinkets and ingredients, sometimes even people’s first-born children. The children would always return to their parents at the end of the night as she felt it wrong to be offered such things.

Hecate examined her bronze watch, it was nearing 9, and popped it closed. She stood from her seat and sauntered over to the wall of jars and vials. Each sat in its place aside from the one that was obliterated early. The back of a mirror rested on the wall nearest her writing desk. She had refused to look at herself anymore. She folded in half to put her hand onto the pages of the book she had written in the night before. The scenery abruptly changed around her as she was pulled into an unfamiliar place. She looked up at a woman clad in a pink jumper who looked over her spectacles at her. The more disheveled one of the two calmly stood up, put a hand to her forehead and bowed silently.

“Well met, Miss Hardbroom.” The unfamiliar woman greeted. “Please be seated.”

Hecate obliged quickly and sat ramrod straight up in her seat.

“Now you are probably questioning your sudden summons. I apologize for promptly transferring you.” She continued onward with a foreign sounding kind tone. “The Great Wizard has asked me to fulfil your favor and I graciously have accepted it. If you so wish, you will be given a position here at this academy as well as a place to stay. You will need to prove your skills to me on a trial basis but I- “

“Yes.” Hecate interrupted so quickly, “Yes _please_.”

_“Joy darling, please don’t.” A sickly female’s voice filled her ears as a memory played in the background._

_A young girl frowned as she deflated like a slowly leaking balloon._

_“You needn’t worry about me.” The voice came again but with coughing this time._

_“Mother please let me take your nightmares away so you can rest.” The child replied in a hushed and hasty tone._

_“I don’t want you to hurt again. Do not hurt for me, my sweet.” She argued back._

_Suddenly the scene shifted into a vortex of bleak smoke._

_“You are a monster!” A male voice shouted so loudly her ears rang._

_“You foolish child! You were never meant for greatness.”_

_“You are not my daughter. Never speak to me again.”_

_“You killed Eleanora! It’s all your fault!”_

_“Your mother died because of your despicable magic.”_

_“Joy? You could bring no joy to anyone! All you ever do is take away!”_

_The ancient stinging sensation of magic hit her back and face as her scars reignited._

_Why would someone be kind to her?_

Ada stared at Hecate with a concerned gaze with her brows furrowed. “Is something on your mind?”

“Nothing, Miss Cackle, my apologies.” Hecate returned.

“It’s no trouble. I’m sure you have a lot to think of with your _er_ … current occupation.” The headmistress stated. “Although I must warn you. Any use of unauthorized magic in your field towards any staff member or student will result in an immediate dismissal. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do.” She curtly nodded as she replied, “What position do you have in mind?”

“The Great Wizard has informed me of your skill set. Aside from being known as the Dream Walker, you dabbled in potions, is this correct?” She inquired, still gazing over her spectacles.

“Indeed.” Hecate nodded, “I have studied herbs and plants for my entire life.”

“Excellent.” Ada smiled warmly. “You will begin tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Hecate questioned as her mouth grew dry.

“Yes, unless that’s an issue.” She replied.

“Not at all.” Hecate lied as anxiety ate at her stomach.

“Today I want you to gather your things, become acquainted with your room, the staff and this school and attend dinner.” Her vision shifted down to her desk.

“Are you positive you’re alright with this?” Hecate blurted.

“You wouldn’t be here in this office if I weren’t. Now, Miss Hardbroom, off you go. Transfer your things here once you are ready.” Ada flicked her hand dismissively but not rudely.

Meticulously she stood from her seat, bowed in her direction without a word and ran into the corner of the room which was the most shadowed. Her body faded into nothingness as she did so. Transference was not her favorite activity, so she chose the next best thing. People referred to it as void walking. She was a phantom and an anomaly to all who witnessed her. A knot formed in her throat as she thought about the children she now had to teach and how they would receive her. She tried to swallow it away to no avail so instead of dilly dallying around she materialized her trunk. Soon objects of importance and clothing were tossed in along with a few containers filled with good dreams. She shut the case and transferred it into the office just as she was asked. Next, she tended to her shelves full of dreams.

It was worrisome to suddenly be absent from her home but perhaps that was for the better. She had not slept in ages as the various noises from the shelves kept her awake at night or tried to hold her hostage. It was even stranger to question how fast this was all moving suddenly after the prior week had moved like molasses. The bottles vanished one by one but not to parts unknown only to the realm of invisibility. Her eyes ached again as she could see the worst of the bottles outlined in blue, shining at her to open them. She shut her eyes and shook her head which stopped the aching pain from wreaking havoc. A meow reminded her of a very important addition to her trip. A thin and well-manicured black cat slinked from the shadows with a freshly caught mouse in her mouth that she dropped at the feet of her mistress.

“Ah Morgana, I see you have returned from your hunt successfully. Well done.” She praised while she knelt to pat her head. “Feast, it will be your last like it until we settle in elsewhere.”

The cat, as if completely understanding the witch, bowed to eat.

* * *

After around an hour, Hecate stood in the doorway to the cottage with her hair up in a bun, hands hidden away in gloves, riding cloak on, and witches hat firmly placed on her head. She wore an ancient dress made of black, blue, and green with a collar that hid the many scars on her neck. Around her neck sat her mother’s pocket watch. She hoped to all above that she was presentable enough to those who would become her colleagues and even the girls she would try to teach. Her familiar padded to meet her. She twisted her broom around in her hands absently while her mind raced off to the reactions of those she would meet. She was used to the prying eyes and the misplaced smiles, the evil glares, and the whispers. Hecate shook her head free of these thoughts and finally closed the door to the cottage with a clunk. The strong wards that protected it glowed briefly under the afternoon sun.

She sat her broom on the ground and commanded it to rise. She along with her cat mounted the broom and were off into the sky. When they reached the Academy, she landed in the courtyard in which was nearby the students practicing their broom summoning and cat riding for what appeared to be some big showcase event. Hecate walked by with a purpose and did not linger for too long as she feared the comments would already begin to roll in, but nothing happened. She vanquished herself into the shadows once more and transported herself just outside Miss Cackle’s office. Either she had been carelessly loud, or the headmistress was part bat as she heard her voice beckoning her to come in.

“Miss Hardbroom, I’m happy to say I’ve placed your trunk in your room.” Were the first words she was greeted with as she noted the presence of a familiar elderly woman with glasses and various pins in her hair. “Miss Bat has offered to help you to the teacher’s wing. To get you a lay of the land!”

“Well met, Miss Hardbroom. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.” She smiled warmly in her direction, her voice as kind as Ada’s if not more so.

“Has your insomnia cleared up?” Hecate questioned.

“It has, yes.” Miss Bat confirmed.

“I see you two have been previously acquainted.” Ada threw her a knowing smile.

“This young lady used to be my student.” Miss Bat teased, “Then she helped me with my insomnia issue and here we are. Strange, isn’t it?”

“Quite.” Hecate chuckled awkwardly.

The two old acquaintances exited the office and walked down the long familiar halls. Another memory played out in her head.

_“Race ya, Hiccup!” A girl clad in an immaculate Cackle’s school uniform called from the end of the hall._

_“I’ll win!” Hecate called back._

_“No cheating!” The one in pink socks yelled back._

_“Oh fine! I’ll win anyway.”_

_“No way!”_

_“GO!”_

_Pippa sprinted at full speed down the corridor, Hecate followed barely behind her. If they were not careful, they would get caught and get another lengthy detention sentence._

The memory faded away as the chanting teacher fell asleep mid-step. Miss Bat stood there, as stiff as a board, snoring away with one foot precariously on its toe.

“Oh dear.” Came the dull voice of a ginger haired woman. “There she goes again.”

“Does she do this often?” Hecate inquired.

“She’s notorious for it.” The ginger explained, “She can fall asleep anywhere as long as she’s comfortable. Here…Miss Bat, your tea’s going to spill over.”

“Oh no! Not my tea! O-Oh…oh…” Miss Bat yelled in surprise after being jolted awake by the notion of her tea being ruined, “What tea, Miss Gullet?”

Miss Gullet, as she was now known, rolled her eyes. “Never mind it, Gwen.” She then walked off to parts unknown carrying her stack of books titled ‘Health & Safety’.

“Where were we…?” Miss Bat questioned. “Ah yes, your room. It’s right over here.”

After only three more steps to the right they appeared before a wooden door. She snapped her fingers and opened it to reveal a decently large space. A bed, a fireplace, two chairs, a small kitchen area and three windows with the curtains drawn. She noted her trunk which her cat happily walked over to, to use as a throne.

“It’s not much but it’s cozy once you personalize it a bit.” She insisted, “Now, if you don’t need anything else, I’ll see you tonight at evening meal.”

Hecate nodded, thanked her very softly and closed the door behind her once she had left. When all went quiet, she slid her back down the wooden door and leaned against it. It was all so much to take in. The school had hardly changed, the reaction time of the Great Wizard’s payment was ridiculous, and everyone was being so kind to her. Her brain spun and grew fuzzy. Her familiar pounced down from her perch and went to sit in the witch’s lap.

“Morgana?” The woman asked in vain attempts at comfort.

The cat looked up at her with trained eyes.

“Do you think we’ll be okay?” She asked.

The cat meowed.

“I hope so too.”


	2. The Phantom Thief

The voices of hundreds of children speaking at once made her feel like her head would split when she entered the main hall. The headmistress ushered her over to sit in one of the empty spots at the table. As she did so the room grew quiet, akin to multiple candles being blown out at once to leave her to a darkened room. Fear bubbled up in her stomach while the stares began to overtake the once chaotic room. The stares turned to daggers from table to table once they realized who she was.

The headmistress stood from her spot with eagle-like eyes and in the sternest of voices she addressed the room, “We have a new teacher. As you may know, Miss Quartz has retired and with that in mind we have filled the spot with Miss Hardbroom. She will resume courses tomorrow morning. You will respect her just as you do any of your other teachers. Please give her a warm welcome.”

“Well met, Miss Hardbroom.” The room replied in a very formal but begrudging tone.

“Thank you. Now, would you please introduce yourself to the school?” Miss Cackle inquired.

She stood from her seat, reminded herself of what her father would do in this instance, and went for it, “Well met, girls. My name is Hecate Hardbroom, I will be your potions teacher. If you have any questions or concerns please direct them to me, personally.”

The other teachers, aside from Miss Bat, stared at her with mild concern. Their gazes cut through her like knives. The entire room demanded something from her and would take her hostage if she were not careful with what she was about to say next. However, she did not say anything next. Hecate sat down back into her seat with Ada glaring down at her as if she were meant to say more. Yet why would she? She would already be dismissed if she had spoken on her previous occupation. A breath seemed to be exhaled from the teacher’s table, but the rest of the room still wanted her head. As if she should have spoken on it. Why would she?

The rest of the meal was awkward if not uneventful. Some teachers tried to engage her in conversation, but most would not even make eye contact. At every turn she answered whatever she could as best as she could all while avoiding the topic. When it finally ended, all she wanted to do was hide in the depths of her room and pretend this was a nightmare she could control. A teacher had another idea for her and grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into an unoccupied classroom. The woman who had pulled her in was the one of the many who did not look at her during the awkward meal. She stood in the center of the room in the dark with her eyes set on the floor and then she looked up at Hecate with a sense of urgency.

“Please, you must help me.” She uttered in a desperate tone.

“With what?” Hecate questioned.

“I heard what you did for the Great Wizard, you must do it for me.” She grabbed Hecate’s hands and looked at them with an unhealthy obsession.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hecate was annoyed by now.

“You know precisely what I’m speaking of, dream thief.” She declared.

“Dream thief?” Hecate was taken aback.

“That is what you are, innit? You steal people’s dreams against their will. But I want this. So please do it. I have nightmares to rid myself of.” She quavered.

“That’s ridiculous.” Hecate argued.

“You shouldn’t deny your reality, dream thief. Miss Cackle brought you on to use you and, _Serve. Your. Purpose!”_ The woman spoke evenly and came closer despite fear being obvious across her face.

Hecate walked back towards the door only to find that the woman had shifted to block her exit.

“That is enough.” Came a third voice was someone who had materialized into the room.

“Miss Cackle this isn’t what it looks like.” She freed Hecate’s hands.

“You have been here since my mother was headmistress but that doesn’t excuse you from acting like a decent human being.” Ada hissed, “Consider this a warning. You will not harass Miss Hardbroom, you will not corner people in rooms and you will not creep around my school. Off with you.”

“But Ada…” The teacher protested.

“Now, or you will be dismissed.” Ada threatened. “Miss Solstice, must I repeat myself?”

“This isn’t fair to me, Miss Cackle. You know I mean well.” Miss Solstice argued.

“I’ve heard everything, Ingrid.” Ada spoke in a chilled voice, “You are not to lie to your colleagues. Nor are you to scare them away.”

“I’m not the one who murdered my own mother in cold blood and got away with it.” Ingrid rebuked as she gave Hecate the glare of lifetime. “Your mother wouldn’t have had it.”

“I’m not my mother. All you have done since I became the headmistress of this school, is complain. Perhaps it is time for you to go on your way.” Ada spat.

“You’re right, you aren’t your mother. My _mistake_.” Ingrid returned.

Ada sighed and creased her brow, “Ingrid Solstice you are dismissed.”

“Your mother had backbone.” She chuckled darkly as she was forcibly transferred away.

Hecate felt ill, more ill than the night before. It was barely even day one and she had been harassed, witness to a dismissal and defended. The feeling was akin to feeling one’s stomach churn but with the thousand burning stings of a swarm of hornets. She questioned if she had even belonged here or if this was all just some twisted favor of the Great Wizard that Ada had to do begrudgingly. Her heart ached from the experience but the tactless comment from the former instructor had barely made a dent as she had shielded herself from similar before. The whites of her eyes began to creep to black as she was stolen away from the moment by an uncontrollable nightmare that called out to her nearby.

She fought back as quickly as she could and steadied herself on one of the desks as to fool Ada that she was fine. It was hard to keep up her defenses when her emotions threatened to spill over. She bit down on her cheeks with all her might and threw back the urge to succumb to this nightmare. She was not sure whose it was or where it was coming from, but it was more potent than the one the night before.

_What if I never wake again?_

Came a familiar voice from wherever this nightmare’s origin was. It rattled her entire being. The thing that made certain nightmares so potent were the ones of those she knew and cared for. She stood up as straight as she could manage and let out the smallest of sighs. 

_What if he never returns?_

“Are you alright, Miss Hardbroom?” Ada questioned in a less angry tone.

“Fine, thank you. I appreciate the assistance.” Hecate returned, “I apologize for causing any trouble.”

_What is life without him?_

“It wasn’t you who caused trouble.” She replied bitterly, “She had been on my shortest nerve long enough. Teachers like her are not allowed at Cackle’s as they promote negativity, division, and dishonesty. It is a shame she had to go like that. If anyone is to treat you this way tomorrow or anytime in the future, please let me know at the quickest convenience. There is no room for those such as her.”

_Is there an end to this road?_

Hecate grimaced as the next set of words hit particularly hard, “Of course.” She wasn’t sure if she had rightly answered her new superior or if she had answered the voice she had heard calling in her head. “I will make sure to do so. I just hope I don’t cause any trouble or grief for you, Miss Cackle.”

“Good night, Miss Hardbroom. I wish you luck in the morning.” She suddenly switched the subject as if avoiding her talks of grief and difficulty.

“Good night, Miss- “Hecate attempted to get her words in but the other was already gone. “ _Cackle_.”

* * *

The dream walker had finally entered her room after a lengthy ordeal and flicked the fireplace to life. She opened her pocket watch revealing that she had exactly ten hours until she had to arise for the next day. A sigh rattled her throat when she let out her already messy bun. She stripped free of her prison of a dress and slid into something much more comfortable. The watch was placed on the dresser next to her bed where Morgana lay fast asleep. Wasn’t the cat supposed to awake in the nocturnal hours? Perhaps the creature was as tired as she from the abnormal day.

Her brain had trouble processing everything that had happened in the past hours. It did not sit well with her nor would it for a very long while. Perhaps it was time to retire to bed and find sleep. Hecate slinked under the covers at record speed, careful not to stir her familiar. The black fluffy lump twitched and moved closer to her mistress. Once the two of them were snuggled together and the fire was dimmed, she found herself melt away into sleep. For once it was not too poor of a dream, or well, so she thought.

_“Joy, can you please pass me the water jug?” Her mother’s sing-song voice filled the black void of her dream world._

_Orange, pink, and white hues lit up the void and filled the horizon._

_“Of course.” She was much too old for this to be real._

_Her brain noted the painting her mother was working on._

_It started out as a painting of her. The portrait then evolved some to reflect the woman she was currently striving to be. Before she could admire the painting, her mother turned around with darkness clinging to her face, eyes, and hands. With a stone-cold claw-like hand she grabbed Hecate’s face and kept it prisoner._

_A guttural hissing voice filled the once pleasant bird-song, “I do not envy the woman who killed her mother without a care. I do not envy the woman who besmirched our name. I do not envy the woman who runs from her past to avoid her reckoning. You murderer! You liar!”_

_She tried to pull away from the once lively woman who was turning corpse-like._

_Before she could see the final stages of decomposition she was thrust into the land of the awake._

The land of dreams closing the gate in her face. She was thankful for their abrupt end as she could not have stomached the outcome it was hastily arriving to. The pale woman gulped in breaths which rattled her thin frame. Black strands of hair stuck to her cheekbones and refused to leave until she pulled them free. Her entire body was covered in sweat and she felt as though her clothing was eating at her. She tore at her collar which seemed to add to the claustrophobia. With shaking hands, she grabbed the pocket watch and opened it to reveal it was an hour before she had to get up.

Whining, she lay back into the covers.

* * *

Morning meal had gone and went quicker than the night before. Hecate stood at the ready at her new desk in a very familiar lab. Her hair was up tight in a ridiculously severe bun, one of which would have made her aunt blush. She could already feel the growing migraine but maybe if she dressed for success, she would be successful. Twelve to thirteen students arrived and immediately sat at their cauldrons without any fuss. Today she had the upper hand as everyone’s names and faces sat in her head from studying during the hour before everyone else rose for the day. That was one of her hidden talents, memorization. It had gotten her out of so many sticky situations in her past. A grin collected on her lips as she passively called attendance.

Once she finished, she noted two girls towards the back whispering to one another and laughing.

With the best impression of her old potion’s teacher, and Mistress Broomhead, she began, “Miss Ironwood, Miss Elderberry, please explain to the class the importance of an anti-anxiety potion.”

They both stopped talking and looked at her with confused faces.

“Repeat back precisely what I have asked.” She looked down her nose at them.

“You wish for us to explain the importance of an anti- erm… alignment position?” Presumably, Elderberry, said.

A few girls laughed at her and Ironwood elbowed her.

“Cease.” She hissed. The room was silenced.

Either it was the fear of her known occupation or she was doing okay as an instructor. Perhaps her higher education with Broomhead was worth the pain. Especially since she had not even thought she was going to utilize her degree in teaching.

“An anti-anxiety potion is utilized for students such as yourselves. Some exploit its capabilities so they may effortlessly take tests, but some are so crippled by the stress they have formulated versions specifically for themselves. Can anyone tell me what the major ingredients are?” She looked around the room with hawk eyes.

It was strange starting in the middle of Miss Quartz’s lesson plans but perhaps this was for the best. For her and for the students.

A girl rose her hand and was nodded at to speak, “Chamomile is a very popular ingredient in these types of endeavors but there is no solid formula as most herbs have worse side effects. Some say anti-anxiety potions are just tea in a special jar.”

“Correct, Miss Spruce.” Hecate nodded, “Many people tend to turn to tea instead of potent alternatives. As tea can be a safer and more stable variant. However, that is abused on the fake market. Some self-proclaimed apothecaries sell water with a sprig of lavender in it and call it a cure-all. Yes, Miss Ironwood?”

“What about lemon balm?” Ironwood questioned.

“Short-term, yes. Long term you will be plagued with anxiety and stomach cramps. A poor combination.” Then she added, “Some may even make you feel abnormally sleepy. So, today’s class will be about creating a solution. Off you go.”

She flicked her wrist and a myriad of prepared ingredients, presumably left by the previous teacher, appeared on the table in the center of the room. Students began to approach it and grab various herbs. When it was ten minutes till end of class, she halted the potion making process.

“I ask that everyone scoop a single ladle full of their potion into a bottle and cork it.” She instructed.

A bunch of clanging and splashing ensued until most everyone was ready aside from a few people lagging behind.

“One by one I want you to shake the living daylights out of these potions and then set them back down on your workstations.” Hecate announced when everyone had seemed to finish.

Various colored potions were swung around wildly and then sat down. Once everyone had finished, she stood in silence and observed every small identical bottle. Some were yellow, others wild red, one was fuchsia (which perplexed her greatly), and one was incandescent purple. After ten or so seconds they all began to react differently.

The yellow ones did absolutely nothing, the reds violently erupted like miniature volcanoes, the fuchsia one began to let out a high-pitched screaming sound and the incandescent purple turned rainbow colors. The girls appeared to be dumbfounded. Once the screaming stopped the room was silent again. Some of the students were shaking while others just stared absently into the void.

“What are your observations?” She asked, “Anyone may blurt out.”

“The yellow ones were silent therefore they must have been the correct formulation.” One said.

“The screaming and red ones were simulations of anxiety? So, we were learning a lesson on mental health?” Another pipped in.

When everyone seemingly was finished answering as most were dumbfounded by this strange lesson, Hecate chimed in, “An anti-anxiety potion is formulated to a person specifically. It is never a conclusive and cut and dry potion.”

“Miss Hardbroom?” Elderberry questioned.

“Yes, Miss Elderberry?” She answered.

“So, if one of us were to try any of these potions it would pose different side-effects?” Elderberry asked.

“Indeed.” She replied, “Everyone would react differently to each individual potion. One may even cause more anxiety.” She spotted the time and then finished, “Ah yes, and before you go, please remember to read up on the next chapter.” She shut the book on her desk with a thud.

An owl’s call signaled the end of class. Lunch came and went without issue.

After three more classes in the afternoon she was tired but feeling confident in her ability. Perhaps this would be just fine. She took a walk to the teacher’s lounge to grab a quick cup of tea before she settled in for tomorrow’s lesson plan. When she arrived, she was met by eerie silence. The comfort the students had brought her had worn off and was replaced with fear again. Despite classes being rough at times and a few accidents being had, the hostility of the teachers was far more severe. Instead of submitting to their stares she glared back to feel out the tension. Most looked away once they realized she was fully aware of their lack of etiquette.

She summoned her cup, full of hot water, and a bag of earl grey and slammed it into the bottom of the overly hot liquid without flinching. A few teachers let out unpleasant gasps while the rest tended to their own conversations and activities. Without another action she walked from the room out into the corridor holding her cup and various textbooks. Her timepiece swung side to side as she walked to her room. Once she arrived, she was greeted with the ever-elusive headmistress.

“According to the students as well as staff, you did exceptionally well on your first day.” She said casually as she wrote down notes into a book, “Some mentioned they weren’t even bothered by the fact you were the dream walker and that you were more entertaining than the, erm, this is a direct quote excuse me, ‘sleepy old hag of a potions mistress.’.”

Hecate stifled a small laugh, “I am grateful I could be exceptional.”

“Some complained you were a bit strict.” She added with a cross tone, “Although that’s not a bad thing, at least to me. Strictness means more learning and less fooling around. You have passed your daily evaluation.”

“Thank you, Miss Cackle.” She bowed her head.

“You aren’t out of the woods yet, Miss Hardbroom. Continue to persevere. I will see you at evening meal.” She said in an intense voice.

When Miss Cackle had left, she was alone to her thoughts for the first time. This had been the first day she had not had an episode involving others dreams. It left her feeling calm and collected. Perhaps this was a normal she could get used to. Hecate entered her room and lay her things on the small writing desk. She sat on the edge of her bed and clutched her cup for warmth. It barely permeated her gloves and left her feeling chilled.

Morgana crept up onto her side and lay. She tucked her tail in and leaned her head against her mistress’s side with a subtle purr. Hecate removed a glove and began to stroke her fondly. The softness beneath her palm was enough to take away any shred of anxiety that threatened to ruin her new serenity.

_You are not out of the woods yet._

The scene of the boy running from the monster appeared in her brain again as she stared off into space.

She would do what the boy could not. Face the monster and conquer the woods themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your feedback on the last chapter! It helped me write this one! This is a very fun story that I look forward to continuing.


	3. Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Lightning illuminated the potion’s classroom which stirred the slowly dozing off teacher whose eyes were surrounded by darkened abyss-like circles. She truly had not slept in days as the weather had gone awry and caused many a pupil nightmares. Their haunting anxieties and turbulent memories twisting and churning like miniature whirlpools were causation for insomnia. Hecate felt her head suddenly hit the table and the world go dark. She fought the sleep that was beginning to take her, but sleep won with a landslide victory.

_A man with a wizard’s hat appeared. He never once spoke, just stood there, gawking. His beard swayed in a newly oncoming wind._

_“Who are you?” Hecate questioned._

_He just smiled without a word and stepped closer to her._

_Wind filled the void of the world around them in various hues._

_The sound of a frog echoed into the abyss._

_“What if he never returns?”_

Hecate jolted upward with paper stuck to her cheek. Barely an hour had passed since she had fallen asleep. Her neck ached in agony from her horrifically postured nap. As she fully lifted her head, she was greeted with a pang of pain in the center of her forehead nearing her left eye. Perhaps teaching took a toll on her or had it been her overly tight bun? She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and began to contemplate going to bed or not as she still had grades to partake in. The feeling of dread slowly was alleviated as she realized that the next day was a sports day that she was told she did not have to participate in. Her head pounded horrifically by this point, so she stood from her desk, sorted the papers, and reluctantly transferred into her quarters.

Aside from the darkness of the room she noted the presence of an additional figure. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation causing a vivid hallucination or a nightmare that had gone loose. She flicked her hand and wrist with noticeable strain which caused the fire to roar to life and extinguish the presence of the figure. She blinked a few times to make sure of this and noted that nothing aside from Morgana occupied the room. The cat shook her back as she stretched and approached the edge of the bed to gaze up at Hecate and meow expectantly.

Like most nights she gathered a small snack-sized meal, Morgana’s feast, and a generous cup of tea. As she sat in her now favored armchair. Thoughts ran rings around her head, creating a twisted halo of apprehension. Her familiar crept into her lap after finishing her meal as if knowing precisely what was going through her head. She stared into the void before her in contemplation. The man, the frog, and the woman. Each meant something to someone in the castle or multiple somebodies. It gnawed at an ancient memory in the back of her head of a younger Gwendolyn Bat with a locket. At that point she was her teacher. For some reason, the woman had entrusted her to the picture inside of the locket of a young wizard. She spoke on how he ran away in the middle of the night and never contacted her again. How she felt it was funny that he had vanished out of thin air despite telling her that he had loved her. How sad and lost she was and how she would not give up on him even with all that had happened.

_“What if he never returns”_

The words seared into the inside of her mind like a branding iron. They glowed like embers and traced her memories in golden strokes which led her to realize these dreams were from both the man in the image and Miss Bat. Perhaps the man had never left the castle at all. Where could he have gone all these years ago? Thoughts of ghouls and ghosts and permanent invisibility spells wrapped around her like a too-tight scarf. She forced a cough out and took a sip of her cold tea. When had it gotten cold?

She stood from her seat, clutching the cup for dear life with a shaking hand and walked to the small counter in the furthermost corner of the room. Another shadow raced past her peripheral, leaving her questioning who was stalking her. The man? No. The aura around them was much too dark. Her mind raced to ghosts again but dismissed the idea as her aunt had always reminded her that _strong_ witches did not give the power of belief to ghosts. Her jaw was clenched shut but a sigh managed to escape its grasp. Hecate sat the cup down and turned to face whatever this was only to be greeted by the absence of anything yet again.

Moonlight drifted in through the windows as the night bore on and cast silver linings across all that sat in its wake. The sounds of dreams echoed through her sleepless head, calling to her to fix them or to rid them of existence and yet all she could do was sit there in the darkness with the soft clicking of her pocket watch as company. Morgana had already gone on her nightly hunt which had left Hecate alone to her loud and obnoxious mind. If only she could close her eyes and sleep. If only she could find the moment to seek her own dreams without the distraction of others. To best describe this experience was city light pollution. It blotted out the stars with its own fluorescent light, tainting any hope of gazing up at the Milky Way. Perhaps one would see a star here or there, but most would be fleeting as they seemingly ran from the effulgent ever-present light.

A silent prayer passed up to anyone that was listening was uttered ever so softly from Hecate as she begged for one moment of sleep. One that was not so disturbing. One would think that after hundreds if not thousands of dreams that were horrific, the person experiencing them would become deadened to their weight but that was hard for someone who cared so incredibly much. Finally, as if by a miracle, she closed her eyes and fell into a strange sleep. The type of sleep that occurred after days of not sleeping. A void opened from beneath her and created an endless falling cycle. Disembodied shrieks filled this void, but none stir the sleeping figure who fell aimlessly. After what felt like an eternity of suffering the sounds stopped. Needless to say, it was far from pleasant.

When she awoke that morning, just before the sun had peeked through the mist, the first thing her eyes settled on were her hands. Despite having them in this condition for years it was still a surprise to her. Especially to someone who had barely woken up. Ink black, gradient down to her elbows, splotches as if fire had burned her and marks akin to ink if it had been swatted at her from a pen. Her nails were lengthy and black but that was by choice as her nails had not changed with this strange transformation so very long ago. Sometimes she hoped they would have changed overnight so she could live a somewhat more incognito existence. 

She gazed up to the adjacent mirror from the seat she had fallen asleep in. Her eyes began to shift to black. The shadow from before appeared in the corner of the room where it was the darkest and stood in silence to just stare in her general direction. Hecate got up from her seat to face it. It lunged out at her and sent her to the ground. She felt claws dig into her arms and a heavy force keep her pinned to the floor. A familiarity surrounded it, one that was enough to push the air from her lungs. Hecate tried to gather the strength back to cast a spell in retribution but was kept in a humiliating hold.

“Begone.” She hissed in a less than convinced voice.

The figure manifested more until it was apparent who it was.

“I banished you once and I can do it again.” She threatened.

“Look at what you’ve done.” An identical voice responded.

“If I can dream you up, I can unmake you.” She replied with a wavering voice, the fear evident in her eyes despite them lacking any normal human features. “I _will_ unmake you.”

“You talk a great deal, Hecate.” It laughed. “You’ve given me enough time to steal a piece of you.”

“Fragments of me will not make you whole. You are merely a nightmare. You are merely a creation of my mind and I will devour you.” She felt the pressure on her chest grow.

“Then do it.” It jeered.

When one could control others dreams, they could sometimes not control their own. Nightmares would begin to conjure themselves into reality and take pieces of the Dream Walker’s self to forge themselves into reality. As nightmares were not whole until they held onto a piece of the conjurer’s self. Yet they could never truly be whole and never be anything more than a fleeting emotion, a horror movie that had an end, or a storm that would pass. She should have known sooner. She had failed herself. Lack of sleep only made control worse and the threat of living nightmares a reality.

_Would Miss Cackle be able to feel the shift in magic when she did this?_

“When the sun sets, and the day has ended, the shadows play but they are not _forgiven_.” She began in a quiet but stronger voice than before.

The figure still held on with all its might.

“A new day arrives, the sun has risen, may you be banished by the light and _forever_ imprisoned.” She spat.

The nightmare’s form wavered but remained and regrouped. It was as if nothing had phased it. “Was that all you had to offer?”

Her face grew pale, her pulse went up and her ears rang. Why hadn’t it worked? Had she just failed? As she started to lose touch with reality the figure vanished into smoke and dissipated into nothingness. Even living nightmares could stir the fear from deep within the one who could control them. Despite her long perilous journey with this set of skills she had never quite grasped them completely. One could compare it to holding onto a rope swing and hoping that it stayed in one piece and did not fray or suddenly get cut. Books just did not exist on this topic and if they did, they were more folklore than anything. Any history on those with similar magic were most likely locked up somewhere where nobody could read them or even peer at them curiously. She almost kicked herself with her one trade with the Great Wizard being this instead of finding a book full of all her answers. Then again, she may have never seen the real thing. He was one to fulfill bargains but in ways that seemingly favored him.

She stared at the ceiling for a long while from the floor. Cold seeped into her backside and limbs. Morgana hopped onto her stomach from who knows where and caused a soft ‘oof’ from the potion’s teacher. The first touch of soft fur after being attacked was so welcomed that she felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. It would never get easy for her.

* * *

When she arrived the one required meal of the day, having skipped breakfast, she was given a stare down from the table. It was nearly three weeks into her time as a teacher and her colleagues still seemingly hated her guts or found her most unusual. She settled into her usual spot next to Miss Grapeseed who barely looked up from her plate of mush. The only slightly friendly face was that of Ada Cackle, whom she expected was merely tolerating her. That was until she was brought into the conversation.

“Now, _Miss Hardbroom_ , as you may know, most academies require a deputy head in order to run properly.” She began, or perhaps was already on the topic but Hecate was far too used to being un-included in conversation to have noticed.

“Mm, yes. Indeed.” Hecate replied while clearing her throat free of 'food'.

“I have decided upon who that will be.” Ada announced. “Or who I would like that to be in the near future.”

“And that being?” Miss Grapeseed, who was once so enthralled in her lumpy flavorless porridge, asked.

“I have two candidates in mind.” Ada smiled in Hecate’s direction and then in the direction of an elderly woman of whom never introduced herself, “That being Miss Lavenderfield and Miss Hardbroom.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs Drill nearly shrieked.

Hecate awaited the harsh words that would come next. 

“You didn’t pick me?” Mrs Drill finally said, gasping dramatically for flair.

“Ah, yes Miss Hardbroom.” Miss Gullet began, “The children have been all over you after you saved us from that old bag Solstice. She was hardly a safe woman.”

“There was something wrong with that woman.” Mrs Drill muttered under her breath.

"You said it." Miss Lavenderfield laughed. 

Ada hushed them with a glare, "Do any of you have any objections based on my choices?"

"I do." Miss Hardbroom offered her voice. 

"Hecate. " Ada changed her tone to a soft one. "I know you have only been here for three weeks but you would offer me a fresh insight and perspective. While Miss Lavenderfield can give me different insight into things past and things to come. I still have a lot to think about but mother always taught me that transparency was key with you all."

Hecate shifted in her seat as a knot formed in her throat. She held onto her timepiece for dear life as if she let go an explosion would go off. While Ada was right she had already managed to break her cardinal rule. She had used her sleep based magic to ward off a nightmare. 

"It would be a pleasure." Hecate forced out 

"I'm sure whoever gets it will do their best and that's what matters!" Miss Lavenderfield responded. "Even you, dear."

Perhaps they didn't hate her. She still wasn't quite sure. Visible sweat formed on her brow. The silence at the table was deafening but it was eventually broken. 

"Since nobody else has any issues with my choices, I shall let you know in a week's time." Ada said in a concise voice. "Now, Derry, I must ask. When is your daughter coming to intern?"

"Ah yes, my star of the sky. She's coming next week before break." Mrs Drill replied, "We-"

Miss Bat fell asleep at the table with a loud snore. A few teachers chuckled. 

"We're planning on being a bit flashy about it." She whispered and smirked at Miss Bat. 

"Wh… Fl-flashy?" Miss Bat mumbled in her sleep. 

"Miss Hardbroom, have any idea what she's dreaming about?" Miss Grapeseed asked, "Unless-" She stopped when she noticed the daggers coming from Ada's side of the table. "Sorry." 

"I'm used to it." Hecate shrugged. "I'd tell you if I could."

Ada sighed in semi-defeat and motioned her head towards Miss Bat. 

Hecate rose a brow but obliged. She ungloved a hand and placed it near her to get a clearer and less anxiety laden read. "Something about glittery clothes and floating donuts. The donuts are chasing her. Hm. Now she's beginning to wake up." She re-gloved her hand and shrugged. 

"Huh wha?" Miss Bat opened her eyes in a daze, "What did I miss?"

"Floating donuts gave you a bit of trouble eh? It's always the donuts." Mrs Drill asked. 

"I would've gotten them too! I swear it!" She nearly shouted and then promptly put her hands on her mouth. "Sorry."

"Astounding..." Ada murmured. "One more thing before we leave here. Hecate please come to my office directly after we finish here." 

An interview perhaps? Sickness welled up in her stomach despite an outward display of bravery. As the last of her meal slid at a molasses pace down her esophagus she felt the smallest tremor start in her hands. Nervousness clung obviously to her frame. 

* * *

"Now, Miss Hardbroom, or might I call you Hecate?" Ada began. 

"Either is fine." She nodded. 

"Right. Hecate, might I ask how you truly feel about my proposal?" Ada asked as she peered over her glasses up at her. 

"Underqualified." She answered simply, "I just arrived here less than three weeks ago. I'm sure Miss Lavenderfield would be more appropriate as she's taught her much longer. Seniority is-"

"I'll have to stop you there. While you may not have tenure or the wealth of knowledge of someone here longer, you can see things from outside the inner circle. You'll be able to have insight that those who have 'seen it all' won't pick up on. That's valuable." Ada waved a hand, "I also must mention your immediate popularity with the students. That's unusual as they normally don't take to outsiders. You are also a very good disciplinarian who seems to understand when a student needs detention or extra help. A lot of the staff tend to overlook things that are obvious. Think about it. You have a week's time."

Hecate nodded curtly as she couldn't find proper words. "Thank you, Miss Cackle." She began to get up from her seat. 

"Hold on, one more thing. I must ask… there were sightings of a shadow lurking in the halls late last night. I've been here almost my entire life and I know these halls aren't haunted. So do you have any idea what that might have been?" Ada asked and narrowed her eyes, "Your answer will not get you dismissed. I just need to know these things as you and I may get to know one another much better in the near future." 

"It was a nightmare gone loose." Hecate felt dizzy answering, "My own nightmare, as I tend to subsist off wide awake potions so I don't accidentally meddle in others dreams. It was taken care of this morning."

"Hecate." Ada was suddenly worried as she pushed brown hair behind her ear, "You as well as anyone here needs their rest. It's key. I didn't realize that's how it was for you. If I had I would've been less severe with you. I-" She frowned, "I'm sorry. Perhaps I should remove my requirement from you. You aren't an animal. You're a grown adult and I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine, _Ada."_ That name felt odd on her tongue but it was a nice change from usual formalities. "I understand why you placed those on me. My magic isn't exactly normal or understood. You had every right." 

"Right." Ada sighed, "Then I feel it necessary to tell you that you're unrestricted unless something comes up. Yet I highly doubt you'd do anything purposefully. I may have taken a dive into your record."

"My record?" She asked. 

"Indeed. I see you attended here, Weirdsister and then got your teaching certification from a Mistress Heckity Broomhead?" Ada questioned. 

"Yes." Hecate agreed. 

"You also spent an abnormally long amount of time here. Yet you have no extremely horrific detentions or punishments on record. Might I ask why?" Ada tilted her head to the side. 

"I…" Hecate swallowed and looked down at the floor, "I would prefer not to answer that."

"You don't have-" Ada was cut off 

"Yet I suppose if I must. Indigo Moon." That's all she said before the rest came out like a cork being unleashed, "She was an Ordinary girl troubled with nightmares and night terrors so horrifically bad that sleep was hard. So she ran away from her aunt and uncle and tried to sleep in a park as a way to try new things so she could sleep. Somehow she saw me despite cloaking protocols being so harsh back then. I didn't have much of a grasp on my abilities which- well." 

"Truly Hecate you-" Ada tried again and bit her tongue. 

"I managed to take away her nightmares but at the cost of her waking mind. Your mother bound me to this Academy for several years until I went to a reformatory school and was put under Mistress Broomhead's care. The Great Wizard revoked my punishment after I had thoroughly learned from my mistakes. I will _never_ forget what happened nor will I repeat it." She finished. 

"Oh dear." Ada answered after a lengthy silence, "I believe it. I'd bet those abilities are incredibly difficult to master." 

"Indeed." Hecate's tone shifted to one of dull sheen. 

"Right, er, I'll talk to you again in a week's time." Ada's features grew wary, "Just keep up with what you're doing and surely it'll be smooth until break."

As the dream walker left the office and closed the door she couldn't help but feel helpless yet again. She swam in a new ocean, after all. The torrents and waves were difficult to maneuver as an internal crisis ate at her bones. It was so easy to default to a look of confidence but she so easily felt as though she could drown. 

She took a walk to her classroom instead of her usual form of travel in hope of distracting herself. Yet instead of help it caused a divet of increased anxiety to gnaw at her insides. Hecate rounded the corner and entered the unoccupied room. Not a single soul aside from a few living tarantulas and frogs greeted her. The frogs weren't a welcome surprise as they merely reminded her of the dream they seemingly induced. She glared absently at one who was merely minding its own business. 

After a moment of silent contemplation of what to do with herself, she settled into the wooden chair facing her desk. Ungraded papers still sat in wait for her steady hand. It was aggravating to give out so many poor grades. Either it was her teaching skills or something more was going on. Her mind went back to Ada's praises but part of her felt they were white lies or enchanted truths. What would she even get out of that? The quill that was grading pushed into the paper harder and left deep impressions. She hadn't noticed until the paper had several deep holes with red ink splashing over the ripped edges. She paused her grading, sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She waved her hand over the papers which fixed themselves and lifted the ink back into the well. 

Eventually she made it to the end of the lengthy pile and found it to be much later than she had planned. She stood from the desk, pushed the chair in and left the room. More walking ensued as transference or shadow walking would have been too easy for such a tired mind that over complicated everything. As she rounded the bend into the teacher’s wing she felt the presence of an unusually placed nightmare. From a room that normally didn’t possess dreams until much later in the night.

Blue outlines of the negative energy appeared in her field of view. A large figure made of this energy stood over the dreamer’s bed with a large sword. It danced around the bed and then collided into presumably where the dreamer lay. She felt pain radiate from the dreamer as she began to hear Ada’s voice echo out into the corridor. She couldn’t quite make out what Ada was saying but she felt the need to intervene. Her heart picked up in pace as her brain considered the outcome of this scenario. Perhaps she’d be fired for this. Perhaps this would be the nail in the coffin for any further promotions. She shook her head, closed her eyes and darted to the door. She opened the door as far as she could before being repelled by a ward which shot her backwards into the hall. The woman continued to speak in her sleep as the figure took notice of Hecate who had walked back up to the door.

She glared at it with her might and began to shift magic silently into her palms. Without a single word she put her hands onto the stone floor which sent a lengthy glowing purple line into the room diving beyond the ward which seemingly only kept out people but not magic itself. _Strange._ The light morphed into a large knight-like figure with a lance and faced the shadow. She commanded it to charge forward with only a thought. The two opposing forces clashed above the sleeping figure and as the darkness was extinguished Ada’s pained expression settled into one of comfort. Hecate dismissed her newly summoned guardian and with the smallest of smiles closed the door and went off to her own room.

As far as she could tell the headmistress was now sleeping peacefully which left the hall feeling lighter. She returned to her quarters with sleep laden lids and a faint head. For once she unleashed her bun and magicked herself into soft blue silk pajamas. Maybe taking care of herself wasn’t so bad on the off occasion. Hecate shifted up the bleakly colored covers and slid herself into them with great gusto as was customary. The sound of a slightly scared mrrow caused her to leave the covers only to find she had nearly squashed Morgana in the process.The poor cat meandered out from the covers and propped herself up melodramatically onto a set of pillows where Hecate would lay her head. The woman sighed and returned to the bed only to receive the immediate response of cat butt in her face and a tail to her eyes. Despite being thwacked repeatedly she had fallen asleep, a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 

When she arose the next day she was greeted by a guest who sat in her favorite chair adorned in an incredibly pink robe. It took awhile for her eyes to adjust only to realize it was the headmistress herself. Hecate struggled out of the covers as she nearly flopped to the floor like a fish. 

“Miss Cackle I-” Hecate’s voice was garbled and scratchy as her butt slid onto the floor.  
  


“How did you do that?” Ada asked with a smirk present on her lips and in her eyes.

“Do what?” She questioned innocently.  
  
“Appear in my dream like that?” Ada questioned with a brow raise.

“How can you be so sure your subconscious didn’t just generate me?” She countered with a bit of intensity.

“You’re smug. I can see it in your eyes.” Ada shot back with a falsely harsh glare.

“Am I fired, Miss Cackle?” Hecate ventured.

“I wouldn’t be in your room in my robes if I was serious about something, Miss Hardbroom. I’d get out the impressively dull headmistress clothing.” Ada returned with a shrug.

“You make a convincing point. Although it’s hardly dull if I may say.” She carefully replied. 

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom.” Ada’s voice went up a degree as a smile was raised to her lips. “You saved me a headache. That adds another reason to my list as to why you’d make for a grand deputy.”

“Dream walking?” Hecate’s voice was genuinely confused.

“Going out of your way to stop someone’s suffering and not take credit for it.” Ada declared.

“How would you know I wouldn’t take credit for it eventually?” Hecate replied.

“You aren’t the type. Now, I must go get ready for the day. Don’t change for anything, Hardbroom.” Ada’s voice became daring as she snapped her fingers and vanished from the room.

Hecate looked up from the floor with spacey eyes as if she had just been hit on the head with an apple and discovered gravity. _Had she passed her trial? Was she a full teacher yet?_ Maybe not. She had only saved one person from a nightmare and surely that wasn’t enough? In her mind a trial for being a teacher meant years and years of experience and grueling painful moments of existential dread. The cat leapt onto her head and then into her lap which was splayed out awkwardly due to her legs being parted like an awkward chicken. 

“Have I passed, Morgana?” She asked as she held up the cat in front of her face with the cat’s paws draped strangely in front of her.

The cat meowed and tilted her head, her olive green eyes almost shimmered in response. “Mrrow?”

“Thank you, Miss Morgana.” She brought the cat closer to her chest and kissed her head, “You always know what to say.”

The cat nuzzled her head into Hecate’s cheek and then wiggled about until she was let go. Instead of walking away the cat proceeded to turn towards her and meow and ushered her witch to follow her. 

Hecate quirked a brow and stood from her strange position from the floor. Morgana began to pad towards an insignificant kitchen cupboard that she had yet to explore. Had it been there before? She opened it as the cat nudged it with her nose. Inside lay dozens of vials full of glowing energy. She shut the cupboard in slight shock and then opened it again. The containers still remained with their contents. Each was marked in foreign handwriting. Some in English, some in Norwegian, a few in possibly in Hindi. 

“What on Earth?” She whispered as if talking loudly would poof away the familiar sight. 

Familiar blue outlines formed around a few vials but the rest shimmered like good dreams. A fat black book rested on the shelf unoccupied by dreams. On the spine it was blank aside from the pairing of a red bookmark that stuck to it with the etched words: “Leylandis Eradad” in silver. As she tried to reach out to it she was reflected back by a strange ward. The doors began to quiver as if they lived. Hecate backed off and watched as the cupboard closed itself and vanished from existence. _So the cupboard hadn’t been there before._ Disappointment ate at her as plain old blocks of stone remained in place.

Where had the cupboard come from and was it from somewhere else entirely? Hecate paced the room with a hand to her chin. Another dream walker, another sandman, perhaps someone who studied the energy of dreams? She was unsure but it wouldn’t hurt to scour her brain and the library for answers later. The word ‘later’ had triggered an internal panic as she realized she had lost track of time. She scurried to ready herself for the day. When she left the room a letter fell from thin air onto the floor. On the front was the word “Sorry” and on the back lay a black wax seal with the initials ‘LE’. 

_Leylandis Eradad?_


End file.
